Rachel Marie Patterson
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Nightcrawlers
My daughters rescue earthworms after rain.
In mismatched crocs, they ferry little wrigglers
on stretchers made of twigs. I watch them
from the sink, disassembling sippy cups.
Jade plant neglected, now withering on the sill.
Crepe streamers from some birthday, forgotten
and decaying on the iron gate. Too warm
for spring, too wet. The elm trees lost to rot,
the lawn infested with ticks all year. The girls,
clumsy-gentle, toss worms into the mud.
I have failed to warn them, don’t know how:
These storms are a disaster, the soil leached
to ash. The backyard pond unfroze too soon
and shocked the orange koi.
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Rachel Marie Patterson is the co-founder and editor of Radar Poetry. She holds an MFA in Poetry from UNC Greensboro. Her poems have appeared in Valparaiso Poetry Review, Harpur Palate, Smartish Pace, National Poetry Review, Cumberland River Review, Thrush, and many other journals. Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net, Best New Poets, and the Pushcart Prize. She is the author of Tall Grass With Violence (FutureCycle Press, 2022).